The Ruby's diamond
by Charlotte.H.Davis
Summary: have you ever wondered what went on in Gideon's head? How he felt finding out a clumsy stranger was to be his time travelling companion? What he felt for Charlotte for over ten years. Found out now. Ruby red in Gideon's POV. dialogue straight from the book, extra scenes and flashbacks. Enjoy.
1. chapter 1

Ever wondered what thoughts went round Gideon's head when a stranger becomes his time travel companion? What he felt over ten years for Charlotte?

Here is Ruby Red in Gideon's POV, dialogue straight from the book,

summery:

Ever wondered what thoughts went round Gideon's head when a stranger becomes his time travel companion? What he felt over those ten years for Charlotte?

Here is Ruby Red in Gideon's POV, dialogue straight from the book, new scenes from the past and present.

Today was not a good day.

Charlotte had been going to the temple more and more often, everybody was waiting for her to disappear, or more accurately, travel back in time.

I had gone through the same annoying process two years ago. I'd had headaches and stomachaches for a while so I was brought to the temple where I traveled back for the first time.

I traveled back in the office to- what I guessed was the late 80s. Even then the hideous painting of the count hung on the wall, the count had always unsettled me with his sharp eyes that seemed to look through you and wolf smile.

But I learned to respect the count after meeting him many times and the fear had left with it. Mostly.

I had dreaded reaching 16 and traveling back, knowing I would never be able to travel to places like Peru, France, Italy and all others.

But in the end I had been excited to enter this extraordinary life.

Not being able to travel wasn't completely true either, I did get to go to France but only to collect blood from a dead man.

Not exactly my idea of a fun holiday.

I just came back from a medical course so I got washed and took my car to the temple. Today I had been informed to come earlier then usual, I wonder what task lay ahead of me today.

Ideally I would've taken the rest of the day off to study and gone later at night. I needed to go everyday to the temple to elapse.

A highly annoying method in which I needed to travel back in time for four hours a day to make sure I didn't travel back uncontrolled like the first time.

Lately I had to elapse less and less because it was my job- as the only (available) time traveler at the moment to travel back in time and get blood from dead time travelers.

I was glad Charlotte was assisting me with this task, we worked well together, she always followed orders and saw reason, usually knowing what to do.

I made my way to the dragon hall when someone almost ran into me, stopping just in time.

I looked down and saw a girl, she must have been at least two years younger than me. She had straight black hair and striking blue eyes. She was wearing an identical school uniform to Charlotte so they must go to the same school at least.

"Oops!" Mr. George proclaimed at the near collision, clearly he nor the girl had seen me coming.

I wondered what her business was here, I didn't let my surprise show.

"Mr. George." I said in greeting as the girl stared at me in curiosity, surprise and typical awe, was that all girls really saw? But there was recognition in her gaze, as if we had met before. I was sure we hadn't met so I ignored it, annoyed at the waste of time.

I turned to Mr. George, hoping for an explanation.

"Gideon this is Gwyneth," he said, slightly annoyed and obviously tired. "Gwyneth this is Gideon de Villiers.

"Hello." I said, not really in the mood to make conversation.

"Hello." She answered hoarsly.

"I think you two will be getting to know each other better, " Mr. George said, laughing nervously, "It's possible that Gwyneth is our new Charlotte."

WHAT!!!!

all this time and training...

I voiced my surprise.

"What?"

I looked her up and down, she looked nothing like a Montrose. How was she going to be prepared?How could they have made this mistake? She just stared back blankly.

"It's a very complicated story," was all Mr. George gave as explanation.

"You better go up to the dragon hall and let your uncle explain."

That did seem like the best option.

I nodded,

"I was on my way up in any case. See you, Mr. George. Good-bye for now, Winnie."

For I was sure, if she really was the Ruby we would see a lot of each other.

Mr. George said something I didn't catch, my thoughts going wild.

I opened the door to the dragon hall, the engravings looking beautiful as ever. The next thing I registered was the noise, Charlotte sat on the sofa, looking pale as she had been for the past days.

Glenda, her mother who I had the unfortunate 'pleasure' to have met and another Montrose, I assumed, because of the red hair were speaking in raised voices.

Dr. White stood to the side, simply watching as my Uncle and Charlotte's grandmother stood, rubbing their temples.

Falk looked up as I came in and explained the situation at hand.

"This is Grace Shepherd, Glenda's sister and Gwyneth's mother," he said, nodding to - as I had correctly assumed the Montrose woman beside Glenda.

Glenda didn't look at me but had stopped arguing, Grace gave me a wary glance as if she'd had an unpleasant history with time travel or de Villiers which she had, I remember, she had hid Paul and Lucy for a time.

I nodded my understanding.

"I was introduced on my way here. "

He nodded and continued,

"Apparently," he said almost sarcastically, obviously he did not believe what he was about to say. "Grace changed her daughter's date of birth on her birth certificate to a day later, meaning Gwyneth was born on the same day as Charlotte and inherited the gene instead. Grace claimed she only wanted to protect her daughter and insure she lead a normal childhood."

I couldn't believe it.

Why would anyone want to risk it if the results could be life threatening?

"So now what?" I asked no-one in particular, "We have an unprepared Ruby with no idea of her duties and..."

I didn't get further before Glenda, as usual, interrupted me.

"She's lying, she simply can't stand not having her daughter at the centre of attention."

"As you've said so many times before Glenda," Falk jumped in before Grace could let out the deep breath she had taken to answer Glenda.

"And my answer in final, we will wait for one of the girls to travel back, then we shall know for sure."

The others nodded in agreement and Glenda, to everyone's surprise, shut up.

"Now, " Dr. White proclaimed, "we must decide what to do in case Charlotte really isn't the Ruby. We can't possibly teach her everything Charlotte has learnt over the years in a couple of days."

I leaned against the wall, listening and giving my own suggestions on how to prepare Gwendolyn.

"I think we should ask the count what to do."

Falk suggested,

"At least before making any choices ourselves."

I agreed with him and Dr. White began to speak when the door opened and a rather sweaty Mr. George came in, dabbing his forehead with a cloth as he did when he was nervous or had to run.

Clearly both in this scenario.

"Don't just stand there gaping like a fish," said lady Arista (I was told her name,) scowling.

She didn't seem to have any other facial expression.

Mr. George spoke,

"She's gone."

The room went silent, Grace shoulders slumped, the rage gone as if she'd hoped she would be wrong. Glenda turned blue in the face and Charlotte looked even paler and like she could sink through the ground in shame.

"Well that fixes one problem then,"

Falk broke the silence and left the room, following Mr. George out, Dr.White and I close behind him.

Mr. George claimed she had left five minutes ago and with no idea when she would be back we had to wait.

The room looked the same as it did two years ago, my first trip had been here but her's clearly wasn't here and must not have been asproblem free.

Dr. White, Mr. George and Falk were talking to one another, they clearly couldn't agree on what to do.

"Don't be to hard on her,"

Mr. George tried to reason but Dr. White disagreed.

"We need to prepare her as much as we possibly can in the short time we have. To drill it in her. "

They had been discussing what to do for the next ten minutes when she appeared before me. Oh, what was her name again? It had seemed of so little importance before, I couldn't remember.

"Hi Winnie," I said, smiling at her.

She scowled at me, I had clearly guessed it wrongly.

"Gwyneth," she corrected me annoyed, as if I had nothing better to think about then her name.

The others noticed her arrival. Mr. George smiled from ear to ear, he was as delighted as he had been with my return two years ago.

That was almost fifteen minutes," he said, curious for more. "How was it, Gwyneth? Are you feeling alright?"

A simple nod as answer.

"Did anyone see you?" He continued questioning.

"There wasn't anyone there. I didn't move from the spot, just like you said."

She replied, giving George his signet ring and flashlight back. Precautions, precautions, always precautions.

"Where's my mum?" She asked, clearly uncomfortable with all of us looking at her like she was either the seventh wonder or the plague.

"Upstairs with the others," Falk replied.

"I want to talk to her." She invites. "Don't worry, you can. Later," said Mr. George assuringly,

"First … oh, I really don't know where to begin."

Mr. George looked most pleased that Gwyneth was the Ruby and not Charlotte or maybe he loved doing this again after two years.

"You've already met my nephew Gideon," Falk introduced us. Again. "He went through the experiences that you are now having two years ago." He assured her.

"Although he was better prepared than you've been. It's going to be difficult to make up all the ground you've lost these last few years."

"Difficult? Impossible is how I'd put it," said Dr. White. Not so encouraging.

"Anyway, there's no need," I said. "I can do it all far better on my own."

Doing it alone would mean I didn't have to work with someone who didn't know what was going on and what to do. If I worked alone we didn't have to teach her all the things I spent years practicing. She could just elapse every day and I could complete my task without any problems. Hopefully.

"We'll see," was all Falk said.

"I think you're underestimating the girl," Mr. George jumped in and turned to Gwyneth.

"Gwyneth Shepherd, you are now part of an ancient mystery. And it's high time you heard more about that mystery. In the first place, you should know that—"

"We mustn't go too fast," Dr. White stopped him. "She may have the gene, but that doesn't mean she can be trusted."

Dr. White and his paranoia, I almost rolled my eyes at him. My concern lay in the possibility she could mess up everything we've been working on.

"Or that she has any idea what it's all about," I added.

Gwyneth gave me a nasty look. "Who knows what instructions her mother has given her?" Dr. White insisted. "And who knows who, in turn, gave her mother those instructions? We have only the one chronograph. We can't afford another bad mistake."

Seeing Mr. George annoyed expression he added,

"I'm just suggesting you bear that in mind." Mr. George looked outraged and shocked even though he too had been present when Lucy and Paul betrayed them all.

"It's possible to make things unnecessarily complicated," he murmured, we all ignored him.

"I'll take you to my consulting room now," Dr. White instructed Gwyneth. "No offense, Thomas, but there'll be time for explanations later."

"I'd like to see my mom," Gwyneth said. How utterly childish furthermore it only encourages Dr. White suspicions. I clicked my tongue in distaste.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Gwyneth," Mr. George assured her, again.

"We just need a little of your blood, and Dr. White will also be responsible for your immunizations and general health. I'm afraid there are all kinds of dangerous infections around in the past, things that the human organism never encounters these days. It will all be over soon."

I know he was trying to help reassure Gwyneth but he wasn't doing very well.

"But I … I don't want to be alone with Dr. Franken … Dr. White," she stamerd.

If she would stop complaining it would make things so much easier. But mistaking Dr. White for Dr. Frankenstein was understandably, he definitely looked and acted the part. I smirked at her but she didn't look at me.

"Dr. White isn't as … as heartless as he may seem to you," Mr. George reasons but I knew Gwyneth would think otherwise when he plunged the needle in her. It had taken a while for me to like Dr. White too but Mr. George was right, he wasn't heartless.

"You really don't have to—" Mr. George started, but Dr. White wouldn't have it.

"Oh, yes, she does!" he growled.

"Do I, though? What will you do if I refuse?" She hissed, she clearly has a deathwish, Dr. White did not take no as answer. Lucky for her sake my Uncle had a good proposal.

"I'll ask Mrs. Jenkins to go with you," he said. "And Mr. George will stay with you until she arrives." She cast the doctor a triumphant glance, as if she had achieved anything other than an annoyed doctor but he ignored her.

"We'll meet in the Dragon Hall in half an hour's time," Falk continued. Dr. White, Mr. George and Gwyneth left the office but not before she looked over her shoulder at me. Now I looked at her from a distance I noticed scratches on her legs. Were those from school or had they been from her first travel back in time? I'd ask her another time.

Once they left I turned to my uncle,

"How did we end up in this mess? "

I really couldn't believe it, we'd spend years preparing, we'd gotten the right people for centuries, never masking a mistake until now. It was some sick joke to make things even harder. A stolen chronograph wasn't bad enough apparently.

"I don't know, Gideon, I don't know. "

It was all he said before leaving to room. But he turned around at the door.

"By the way, could you bring the other Montrosen to the car? Thanks."

He'd already left when I answered.

"of course."

I went up to the dragon hall again, wondering when I would elapse today, or maybe I had to send an update of the Ruby's unfortunate arrival to the count.

I went in after meeting Mrs. Jenkins on the way and briefly explaining the situation. The hall was the same as I'd left it only there was a plate of untouched cookies. Glenda had stopped arguing and was pacing the room, Grace was muttering to herself, Charlotte and her grandmother sat on the sofa.

They looked up at my arrival, Charlotte sitting a little straighter. I send her a sympathetic glance that made her sigh and slump back in her seat.

"Gwyneth is the Ruby."

I declared, getting straight to the point. Not knowing what else to say I said,

"I will take you back to the car."

Charlotte nodded and left the hall, not saying a word as she walked passed me, I called after her but she kept walking.

"Charlotte wait," I grabbed her arm lightly and she stopped and turned to me.

"This is all so embarrassing and humiliating," she said,

"No, it isn't. It's not your fault." I said as softly as possible, trying to make her feel better.

"Phantom symptoms! I could sink into the ground. I really did think it was going to happen any moment—" Charlotte said, looking like she might burst into tears.

I interrupted her before she felt too hopeless.

"That's exactly what I'd have thought myself in your place," I said and I meant it. I would have thought it to be the time travel gene in her place, she was born on the right day, and was the right age. I wouldn't have thought anything different.

"Your aunt must be crazy to have kept quiet about it all these years. And I really do feel sorry for your cousin."

I felt more sorry for myself really, I know had to work with someone who had no idea about any of this. It was going to be a lot harder than it should have been.

"Oh, you do, do you?"

She clearly didn't like me worrying about her cousin.

"Well, think about it! How on earth is she going to manage? She hasn't the faintest idea.… How will she ever catch up with all the things you and I have been learning for the last ten years?"

"Yes, poor Gwyneth," said Charlotte, almost sarcastically.

"But she does have her strong points." she continues and I nodded.

"Giggling with her girlfriend, sending text messages, rattling off the entire cast list of films—she's really good at that sort of thing."

A typical 16 year old highschool girl than. Great. This will be fun.

"I thought as much when I first saw her earlier today," I said, more to reassure her then anything else.

"Hey, I'm really going to miss you." I said. She smiled and said.

"We had fun, didn't we?"

"Yes, but think of all the new opportunities open to you, Charlotte! I envy you that! You're free now. You can do anything you like." That's what I would've done if I were freed from time travel.

"I never wanted anything but this!" I knew she hadn't.

"That was because you had no choice," I said encouraging . "But now the whole world's before you. You can study abroad, you can go on long journeys, while I can't be away from that damn …"

Respect, I had to respect that stupid, retched thing.

"From the chronograph for more than a day, and I spend my nights in the safety of the year 1953. Believe me, I'd happily change places with you!" Mostly true, but the excitement of time travel, a gift many would kill for was irreplaceable.

The door of the Dragon Hall opened and Lady Arista and Glenda came out into the corridor. Done discussing whatever they were talking about. Grace was still inside.

"They'll regret this yet," Glenda said angrily.

"Glenda, please! We're a family, after all," Lady Arista tried to reason.

"We must stick together."

Glenda snorted and said,

"You'd better tell that to Grace. She's the one who got us all into this mess. Protect her! Ha! No one in possession of their senses would believe a word she says! Not after all that's happened. Still, it's not our problem anymore. Come along, Charlotte."

Glenda stormed of leaving her mother behind and waiting for Charlotte to follow.

She clearly didn't take it well.

"I'll see you to the car," I said, fulfilling my given task and giving myself a chance to say goodbye. I'd never really had friends because of the lessons but Charlotte had been there. She hadn't made it a competition of who was the best time traveler but had wanted to work together and now she didn't have the one thing she'd wanted in her life. I couldn't just forget about her and avoid her, I would stick by her side like we had all those years.

I opened the car door for them all and leaded into the window.

"Good-bye for now Charlotte but I'm sure we will see each other again."

She smiled and despite everything I smiled back.

"I'd like that," she said and the window rolled up, a memory came to me as I watched the car sped away.

My 9 year old self, sat on the bench in the Dragon Hall, feet dangling not yet touching the ground. I was waiting nervously when the door opened. Thinking it was my instructor, I sat straighter and looked up, thinking over my line. But I was wrong. Through the door came a woman, holding a little girl's hand. Both had red hair and the little girl wore a blouse and pink leggings. She too was nervous because she was playing with the hem of her blouse.

Her mother told her to wait next to me on the bench and turned to leave.

"Good-bye mommy, " she said waving,

Her mother waved back before disappearing, closing the door behind her,

"Bye Charlotte,"

Charlotte walked up to me and sat down next to me,

"Hello Charlotte," I said, "My name is Gideon."

"Hi," she said, looking at her feet as they swayed next to mine.

"Did you have to practice lines too?" I asked, she nodded.

"Yes but I forgot them," she looked really upset about it,

"Me too." I assured her and she smiled at me and said,

"We're going to be best friends and we'll do everything together forever, I know we will."

She said and held out her pinky.

"Pinky promise?"

I smiled, liking the idea.

"Pinky promise," I said, hooking my finger with hers, "Forever and forever."

Of course we didn't believe in pinky promises anymore but we'd still kept it, but maybe that forever and forever was coming to an end.

I stood there until the car turned the corner before going back inside, I'd wait in the Dragon Hall until someone came to tell me to elapse and with all this chaos I didn't know when that would be. I bumped into Mr. George and Dr. White I'm the corridor.

"Sorry Gideon, we just need to check something with Grace and Gwyneth then we're done."

I nodded my understanding, today was going to be a long day.

We entered the dragon hall where Falk, Grace and Gwyneth were all ready waiting.

"Everything's ready, the time machine is ready to start" said Mr. George happily as if he didn't have a trouble in the world, which, looking at the circumstances he did.

I glanced at Gwyneth and she waved at Dr. White, had the meeting really gone that well? I'd ask her about it later.

"Well, we're all present and correct, then," said Falk."That is to say, I'm afraid Glenda and Charlotte have had to leave us. They send warm good wishes to everyone."

There were definitely a lot of words from Glenda spoken to certain individuals but they weren't warm.

"I bet they do," said Dr. White, always on to speak his thoughts.

"Poor girl! Phantom symptoms for two whole days—it can't have been much fun for her," said Mr. George, with a sympathetic expression.

"And add a mother like that into the bargain," muttered Dr. White, I couldn't agree more, Gwyneth's look seems to say she too, thought Glenda to be most awful.

"Mrs. Jenkins, how's Madame Rossini getting on with Gwyneth's wardrobe?" Mr. George ignored Dr. White.

"She's just … wait, I'll go and ask." Mrs. Jenkins hurried out again.

Mr. George rubbed his hands, ready for action. "Then we can go!"

Yes! Finally, I'd have to spend the next four hours underground but at least I was away from this mess and...

"But you won't take her into danger, will you?" said Grace, turning to Mr. George. "You'll leave her out of this business?"

Oh, no. Now we really would be here forever. I contained my sigh and said,

"We will certainly leave her out of it," that would be the best solution.

"We'll do all we can to protect Gwyneth," Mr. George assured Grace.

OK great, conversation closed.

"We can't leave her out of it, Grace," said Mr. de Villiers. "She's part of this business, as you put it. You ought to have realized that earlier. Before you began this stupid game of hide-and-seek."

Or not.

"With the result that, thanks to you, the girl is entirely unprepared and ignorant," said Dr. White. "Which of course will make our mission even more difficult. But I expect that was just what you wanted."

"What I wanted was to keep Gwyneth out of danger," she spat back.

"I've gone quite a long way on my own," I insisted.

"I can see this thing through by myself."

"That's just what I hoped," Grace defended herself while Gwyneth looked offended and gave me a nasty look.

We'll see what kinds of tasks she may be suitable for," said Falk.

"We have her blood," I argued. "That's all we need from her. She can come here and elapse every day as far as I'm concerned, and then everyone will be happy."

And no time would be wasted on a helpless cause. Gwyneth only proved my point by looking rather confused, Mr. George saw and explained.

"By elapse we mean deliberately tapping your time-travel quota by setting the chronograph to take you back into the past for a couple of hours. That prevents uncontrolled travel." He turned to the others. "I'm sure that after a little while Gwyneth will surprise us all with her potential. She is—"

"She's a child!" I insisted, did nobody else see what a lost cause this was, what a lost cause she was. "She has no idea about anything."

I looked at her and she looked back, her face turning red with anger.

"That's not true," she said. Obviously thinking I meant her age alone but there was so much more that made her incapable of this.

"Oh, no?" I said sarcastically. "Then what, for instance, do you know about history?"

The most important thing for a time traveler to know absolutely everything about time. Not just dates but details.

"Enough!" she shot back angrily.

"Really?" I couldn't believe her nativity and how oblivious she was to how little she knew.

"Who came to the throne after George I?"

She looked alarmed at the question. "George II?" she said hesitantly.

She must have guessed, I should have asked something harder.

Oh, she'd never be able to guess this one.

"And which royal house replaced the Stuarts in 1702 and why?"

Her triumphant face fell.

"Er … we haven't got to that yet," she said.

"So I see." I said to the other, having proven my point.

"She doesn't know anything about history. She can't even speak appropriately. Wherever we go, she'd stick out like a sore thumb. And she has no idea what's at stake. She wouldn't just be totally useless, she'd endanger the entire mission!"

I didn't look at her as she no doubt turned red again.

"I think you've made your opinion quite clear, Gideon," said my Uncle. "At this point, it would be interesting to find out what the count thinks of these developments."

"You can't do that to her!" Grace interrupted. Her voice all choked up.

"The count will be delighted to meet you, Gwyneth," said Mr. George. "The Ruby, the twelfth, the last in the Circle. It will be a solemn moment when the two of you come face-to-face."

"No!" she said.

Everyone looked at her, Mr. George and Dr. White saw no reason why not to let Gwyneth see the count but Grace insisted without a reason of her own, or at least not one she was willing to share.

"It's not up to you to decide," said Falk.

"But she's right! It won't do anyone any good for us to drag the girl into this too," I really saw no point. "I'll explain what happened, and I'm sure the count will agree with me."

"He's going to want to see her, anyway, to get an idea of her for himself," said Falk. "There's no danger for her. She won't even have to leave this house."

"Mrs. Shepherd, I assure you, nothing will happen to Gwyneth," said Mr. George. "I imagine your opinion of the count is based on prejudices that we'll all be very happy to dispel."

But Grace wouldn't tell us why she was afraid of the count and didn't want Gwyneth to meat him. She only said it was a 'kind of feeling,'

everyone ignored.

"Who is this count anyway, and why aren't I supposed to meet him?" Gwyneth asked, I had a feeling I would have to answer a lot of her questions in the future.

"Because your mother has a kind of feeling," said Dr. White, straightening his jacket. "The man has been dead for over two hundred years, Mrs. Shepherd."

"And that's the way I'd like him to stay," she muttered.

"Count Saint-Germain is the fifth of the twelve time travelers, Gwyneth," Mr. George explained, telling her how he'd discovered how to use the chronograph and decoded ancient scripts that foretold the prophecy of each time traveler. Falk didn't give the count all the credit.

"The count had scientists, philosophers, and scholars such as Raimundus Lullus, Agrippa von Nettesheim, John Colet, Simon Forman, Samuel Hartlib, Sir Kenelm Digby, and John Wallis to thank for the decoding of the Ancient Writings,"

The two of them were wasting their breath, everything either went in one ear and out the other and she probably didn't know a single one of these people.

"None of those names rings a bell anywhere in her head," I said sarcastically.

I had clearly guessed correctly since she gave me a nasty look, clenching her jaw.

I simply looked away, not caring what she possibly thought of me or the terrible things she wished upon me. Not caring one bit.

After much more discussing, explaining to Gwyneth and protests from Grace, we were finally getting somewhere.

"You'll meet him in the year 1782. The count was a very old man then, but conveniently for our purposes, he was making a visit to London. On a strictly secret mission, the nature of which is unknown to historians and his biographers.

Falk said, explaining where the count and Gwyneth would meet.

"He spent the night here in this house. So it will be very easy to arrange a meeting between you. Gideon will escort you, of course." Great those idiots were sending me to babysit Gwyneth in 1782, I'd rather elapse.

"Very well," Grace said, finally giving in after Gwyneth insisted she would be fine and that Grace should go home to be there for Caroline and Michael, Gwyneth's sibling I assumed.

"I'll go." She continued and even Gwyneth looked relieved. "I'm trusting you to make sure that no harm comes to Gwyneth." Grace said, more to Mr. George then anyone else.

"And that she will be at school on time tomorrow morning," said Lady Arista. "She shouldn't miss too many lessons. She's not like Charlotte." Lady Arista clearly didn't believe in not playing favorites or being nice, to anyone.

"Where are my hat and coat?" she asked, looking around.

There was silent collective sigh of relief from the rest of us in the room.

"Mrs. Jenkins will take care of everything, Lady Arista," said Falk. I wondered why Charlotte and Gwyneth both called their Grandmother Lady Arista, I'd ask about it later.

"Come along, my child," Lady Arista told Grace.

"Grace." Falk said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. "It's been a great pleasure to see you again after so many years."

"It hasn't been all that long," she said, slightly smiling but she was still angry and upset.

"Seventeen." said Falk like nobody was counting. I smirked at him.

"Six," she corrected him. Ouch, not so smooth.

"We saw each other at my husband's funeral, but you've probably forgotten." She ignored him and looked at Mr. George. "Will you take care of her?"

"Mrs. Shepherd, I promise you that Gwyneth will be safe with us," said Mr. George. "Trust me."

"I don't seem to have any other option." Grace muttered, withdrawing her hand from Falk's and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Can I have a word with my daughter in private?"

"Of course," said Falk.

"You'll be undisturbed in the room next door."

"I'd prefer to be outside with her," said Grace annoyed. My uncle raised his eyebrows.

"Afraid we'll eavesdrop on you? Watch you through peepholes in the portraits?" He laughed, she didn't.

"I need a little fresh air, that's all," was all she said and the three of them were gone.

Falk plopped down on the nearest chair and let out a sigh.

I smirked at him.

"What?" he asked annoyed, clearly knowing what I was smirking about.

"It was a long time ago, besides, de Villiers and Montrosen never work out. Grace was just...a thing."

"mmmhu" I said sarcastically, not believing him and continued to smirk. He ignored me.

"Get me a whiskey would you?"

He asked Dr. White. The doctor nodded,

"Make that three," the doctor said rubbing his temples and looking at Mr. George.

"Woman, always so dramatic and..."

He muttered on his way out, while my family and the lodges view on women was very old fashioned I couldn't help agree, they had indeed managed to mess things up spectacularly.

Mr. George and Falk left shortly after Dr. White did and after they'd had a whiskey. I was to go to Madam Rossini to collect my clothes but first I felt like I could use a bit of fresh air myself.

I went out to find Lady Arista gone but Grace had stayed, she was sitting on the bench crying. I walked towards her, ignoring the voice in my head telling me it wasn't my problem. I cleared my throat and offered her a tissue, she looked up at me, wiped her eyes and smiled, taking my tissue and snorted loudly. She got up, taking her handbag and rucksack,

"I'm sorry, I just had a rough day, I should go home, thanks for the tissue."

"No problem," I said.

She started walking away but changed her mind and turned around to face me again.

"Promise you'll take care of her for me, to protect her. She's...she's everything to me...I can't...I just can't lose her."

"Of course," I said, a promise I knew I might not be able to keep. Grace knew it to because she smiled sadly,

"thank you."

and she walked away.

I went back inside and went to Madam Rossini's room.

I came in without her noticing me, there was an old record player playing on French, most likely a phonograph, which were invented in 1988 by...

Anyway, not important.

The old record player was playing a jazzy tune and Madam Rossini was humming along happily while working on a dress. The dress was put on a doll and Madam Rossini hopped around it, putting needles in places and making little adjustments. The dress was beautiful in a magnificent bleu, I looked sadly at the dress, a dress made for Charlotte but Gwyneth would get to wear.

I coughed, knowing Madam Rossini would not appreciate someone creeping up on her. She indeed jumped, almost tearing the dress.

She turned to me.

"Zut slots, w'at do you t'ink you're doing, creeping up on me like t'at?"

She said angrily and disappeared in the racks of clothing and came back with a handful of clothes.

I loved her accent and how she forgot the t and the th when she got mad. But she was very forgiving and gave me the clothes with a smile.

The outfit however I did not love, the yellow breeches, red waistcoat, a brown coat with gold buttons and gloves of yellow chamois leather.

God what were people thinking.

But I smiled,

"Thank you Madam Rossini,"

She waved me off but there was a suspicious glint in her eyes as if she knew I would not wear this outfit, not matter what the period.

I changed in the room next door, a small storage room full of old clothes, hats, pins and so much more, I looked around a bit, hunting for something acceptable to wear instead.

Oh perfect, I put on dark green trousers that cut off at my knees, and striped silk stockings but kept the red waistcoat and tied my hair up in a bow. I went back to Madam Rossini's dressroom where Gwyneth had all ready being fitted with the new dress which looked beautiful on her. But my attention went to the monstrosity on her head, I contained my laugh at the feather disaster.

"Nice hat."

I said jokingly

"Lovely," said Mr. George, coming into the room behind me, I hope he was talking about the dress and not the hat.

"Madame Rossini, you've worked wonders." He said delighted and possibly relieved at how simple changing the dresses from one girl to another had been.

"Yes, I know," said Madame Rossini. Looking pleased at her work.

"Nice velvet bow," Gwyneth said sarcastically, trying to get back at me for the hat comment.

"Mrs. Counter, our geography teacher, always wears exactly the same thing." Her attempt at insulting me was hilarious I smiled, glad I hadn't worn those ridiculous trousers,

"Oh, the bow is nothing special. You should see me in a wig." I said, knowing she'd have nothing to say to that. Jet she didn't look as puzzled as I'd hoped.

"Monsieur Gideon, I 'ad put out zose lemon-yellow breeches for you, not ze dark ones."

Madame Rossini complained, I looked away from Gwyneth, her hat more accurately and turned to Madam Rossini.

"Yellow breeches with a red waistcoat and a brown coat with gold buttons? I thought it was just too many bright colors." I said, as politely as possible without insulting her.

"Men of ze Rococo period liked colors."

As if that explained their horrible taste. Madame Rossini looked at me crossly.

"And I am ze expert here, not you!"

I knew there was no point arguing any further. Or I would just upset her more.

"Yes, Madame Rossini," I said.

"I'll listen to you next time."

Unless it was completely ridiculous again, I said to myself.

"Where are ze yellow chamois leather gloves?"

"Oh, I thought if I wasn't going to wear the breeches, I'd better steer clear of the gloves as well."

"Of course!" Madame Rossini huffed. I had refused her clothes before, the first time I had gone to visit the count days, (from the count's prospective) before Gwyneth will or did.

"With respect to your sense of fashion, young man, we're not talking good taste here, we're talking authenticity. And I took care to pick colors that would suit your complexion, you ungrateful boy."

Pink did not suit me.

"Thank you very, very much, Madame Rossini," Gwyneth said as she left the room very slowly, making sure her dress didn't bump into anything.

"Ah, my little swan-necked beauty! It was a pleasure! At least you appreciate my work." Madam Rossini said to Gwyneth, giving me a sour look.

"If you'll follow me, please, Miss Gwyneth." Said Mr. George smiling. "We have to blindfold her first," I remind him, or else we would never hear the end of it from Dr. White, no matter how many times I insisted she wasn't capable of such a crime as stealing the chronograph.

I thought, trying to find the best way to take Gwyneth hat of so I could blindfold her.

"Dear me, yes. I'm afraid Dr. White insists on it," said Mr. George, with an apologetic smile to Gwyneth. "But it will ruin her 'airstyle!" Madame Rossini complained, smacking my hand away for more than just helping with the hat I was sure.

"Tiens! Do you want to pull 'er 'air off 'er 'ead? Never 'eard of a 'atpin? There!"

She firmly planted the hat and hatpin in Mr. George's hands who clearly had no idea what to do with it or why she had given it to him. "And carry that 'at carefully!" Mr. George assured her he would and I tied a black scarf around Gwyneth's eyes, trying to avoid messing up her hair as much as possible, knowing Madam Rossini was looking over my shoulder like a hawk.

"Ow!" she shrieked, overreacting hugely as a few hairs got stuck in the knot, I rolled my eyes but she couldn't see."Sorry. Can you still see anything?"

"No."

"Why can't I see where we're going?"

She asked confused.

"You're not allowed to know exactly where the chronograph is kept," I explained. I put a hand on her back and guided her forward, she almost stumbled a step.

"An unnecessary precaution, if you ask me," I said. "This house is a labyrinth. You'd never find your way back to the room. And Mr. George thinks you're beyond any suspicion of treachery anyway." But not for the same reasons I believed she wouldn't do anything. Mr. George thought she was nothing more than confused and...

"Ow!"

Gwyneth said as she collided with the wall, I must have led her into the wall by accident, I cursed myself for not paying better attention.

"Hold her hand, Gideon, you stupid oaf," said Mr. George, sounding annoyed.

"She's not a supermarket trolley." Fair enough, I thought and I took her hand which was warm and soft, she jumped at the touch. "It's okay," I said, feeling her heartbeat quicken. "Only me. We go down a couple of steps now. Watch out."

So we went on in silence I instructed her where to go, telling her when we took a step down side or around a corner. We didn't talk but really what was I to say to a 16 year old, she wasn't like Charlotte so we couldn't talk about politics or discuss events of the past.

Gwyneth missed a step and she stumbled almost falling over but I caught her just on time with both hands and put her back on solid ground. I put my hands around her waist. "Careful, there's a step here," I said smiling.

"Yes, thanks. I noticed when my ankle turned over," she answered, not so amused.

"For heaven's sake, Gideon, do be careful," said Mr. George. "Here, you carry the hat, and I'll help Gwyneth."

For the next 5 minutes Mr. George led Gwyneth through the halls and there were no more accidents. After the last left turn we finally arrived in the chronograph room where I'd been many times before and Charlotte had looked forward to going to but now... maybe she never would. Mr. George took Gwyneth's blindfold of an she squinted at the bright light.

"Here we are."

Mr. George said as I came in after him.

"Exquisite as a young May morning," Dr. White told me, "Thanks!" I said and made a little bow while Gwyneth was blinking, trying to get used to the light.

"The latest thing from Paris. I ought really to be wearing yellow knee breeches and yellow gloves with this outfit, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it." Dr. White grinned darkly.

"Madame Rossini is furious," said Mr. George.

"Gideon!" Falk said disappointed. "Well, Uncle Falk, I ask you! Yellow knee breeches?"

He must realize how ridiculous that is!

"It's not as if you were going to meet old school friends who might laugh at you there," he said sighing. "No," I said smiling and putting the hat down. "More likely I'll meet guys wearing embroidered pink breeches who think they look terrific," I said, shaking my head. Mr. George smiled but Falk simply shook his head and turned to Gwyneth,

"Blue suits you wonderfully, Gwyneth. And Madame Rossini has done something very elegant to your hair."

"Er … thank you." Gwyneth muttered, unsure what to say.

"We'd better hurry up. I'm dying of heat in these clothes." I said undoing my stuffy coat.

"Come over here." Dr. White told Gwyneth and I walked to the table where the chronograph had been wrapped in red velvet, completely over the top.

"I've adjusted all the settings. The window of time available to you two is three hours." The chronograph looked absolutely stunning, no matter how many times I saw it, it still astonished me every time. The precious stones on the chronograph were priceless, the engraving beautiful,

"Is that the chronograph? It's so small!" Gwyneth said, not too impressed.

"It weighs nine pounds," said Dr. White proudly. "And before you ask, yes, the stones are all genuine. This ruby alone is six carats." Before Dr. White could rattle on about the chronograph any longer Falk interrupted him, and just as well or else we would still be here tomorrow.

"Gideon will go first," he said.

"The password?"

"Qua redit nescitis," I said, knowing it by heart like I should.

"Gwyneth?"

"Yes?" she asked, clueless of what she'd been asked.

"The password!" Falk said a bit annoyed. Gwyneth just looked even more confused.

"What do you mean, password?"

I gritted my teeth to keep from shouting at her or sighing. Hadn't he just asked me the same thing two seconds ago.

"Qua redit nescitis," said my Uncle. "The password of the Guardians for this twenty-fourth of September." "But it's the sixth of April." I turned his eyes to heaven, was she really this clueless or did she not think before she spoke?

"We arrive on the twenty-fourth of September inside this house. If we don't want the Guardians to chop off our heads, we have to know the password. Qua redit nescitis. Go on, repeat it." I said, hoping she'd remember it then.

"Qua redit nescitis," she said before asking,

"What does it mean?"

Oh my God! Was there anything she could do?

"Don't tell me you're not learning Latin at school!"

"Well, I'm not," she snapped back. "In full, Qua redit nescitis horam. You know not the hour of your return," said Dr. White before I could explode.

"Rather a flowery translation!" Mr. George protested. "One could also say, 'You don't know when—'" "Gentlemen!" Falk said, having clearly had enough of this discussion and tapped his wristwatch urgently.

"We don't have forever. Ready, Gideon?" As I held my hand out to Dr. White, I noticed the hat still on the table, I could go and get it but we would only waste time and nobody would miss it anyway. Dr. White put my forefinger in the opening underneath the diamond and the familiar humming sound began, with a flash of white light I ended up in a familiar corridor, the one I had used to travel back to meet the count for the first time, to inform the count of the missing chronograph and later my progress in seeking the dead time travelers blood.

Once Gwyneth arrived I laid a hand on her shoulder to support her. She tensed up,

"Is that you, Gideon?" Gwyneth whispered.

"Who else?" I whispered back, and let go of her shoulder. "Well done, you didn't fall over!" I said, not quite joking, I had fallen over the first 3 times, not that I saw going to tell her that.

I took the torch I knew was hanging on the wall and lit it. I could see her face now, her eyes were dancing in the light of the candle, and she looked up at me. She looked so... innocent that I could understand why Grace had hidden her.

"Cool. Did you bring that with you?"

How was I supposed to have taken a torch with me? Hid it under a waistcoat? I would have at least taken a flashlight.

"No, it was here already. Hold it for a moment." I told her handing her the torch as turned the key in the lock, having left it locked on my last visit, the last thing we wanted was someone ending up in the nuthouse because they told all their friends about people appearing out of nowhere in corridors.

"Hush," I said, knowing she would most likely ask questions. I peered out into the corridor, praying there would be nobody there. There wasn't so I stepped out, Gwyneth right behind me.

"This place smells kind of like something decaying," she said, so much for being quite.

"Nonsense. Come along!" I said, and closed the door behind her, making sure to make a minimal amount of noise. I took the torch from her again, and we walked down the dark corridor, the torch the only light.

"Aren't you going to blindfold me again?" she asked, almost sarcastically.

"It's dark, you'd never remember the way," I replied. "One more reason to stick close to me. We have to be back down here in three hours' time."

We kept on walking up the same path we'd gone done minutes earlier, only everything looked a lot less modern, no light or even torches anywhere, Gwyneth stayed close, looking around fearful, clearly in no hurry to find out what animals roamed these halls. We turned into a lot corridor where we reached a set of double doors and one of the suits of armor pointed his spear at us and said, "Stop!" Gwyneth jumped in fright and turned pale as a ghost, I had been told to expect this when I came here the first time, Gwyneth had been less fortunate. I couldn't help smile at her reaction. The other guard spoke, also in a suit of armor.

"We have to speak to the Master," I said, "On urgent business." I added so they would speed up. "Password!" said the second guard.

"Qua redit nescitis," I said for both of us since Gwyneth had probably already forgotten it, not that the guard would bother asking her. "You may pass," said the first guard, opening the door for us. We went through a second corridor, lit well enough that I didn't need the torch anymore so I put it in a holder and we continued on.

"This is like a horror film. My heart almost stopped." Gwyneth said, slightly out of breath. "I thought those things were just for decoration! I mean, suits of armor aren't exactly modern in the eighteenth century, are they? And not much use either, if you ask me."

Completely useless, if someone were indeed to attack which in itself was very unlikely, they wouldn't be able to do anything because the armors were to heavy to lift and probably rusty as well.

"It's a tradition for the men on guard to wear them," I said. "They do in our time as well."

"But I haven't seen any knights in armor in our time,"

Only because she had been blindfolded and they were empty anyway. But I was sick of answering questions.

"Get a move on," I hurried her on. She ignored my obvious annoyance at having to a answer her questions and asked another.

"Who is 'the Master'?"

"The Order is headed by a Grand Master. At this period of course it's the count himself. The Order is still young; the count founded it only thirty-seven years ago. Even later, members of the de Villiers family often held the post of Grand Master." I explained as simply and straightforward and possible, but Gwyneth looked even more confused and had many more questions

"What about now? Er, I mean in our time. Who's the Grand Master today?"

"At the moment, my Uncle Falk," I said, "He took over from your grandfather Lord Montrose."

"Oh." She said, looking slightly upset that she had never known. Another secret she didn't know.

"So what position does Lady Arista hold in the Order?" The question took me by surprise, I'd thought she'd ask more about her grandfather.

"Oh, none. Women can't be members of the Lodge. The immediate families of the members of the Inner Circle automatically belong to the Outer Circle of initiates, but they don't have a say in anything."

She had on 'oh, obviously' expression on her face. I could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at our anti-feminism.

"Why do you always call your grandmother Lady Arista, by the way?" I asked now we were talking about her anyway. When she didn't answer I continued, "Why don't you say Grandma or Granny?"

She thought about it for a moment.

"I don't know. We just do," she said. "So, why can't women be members of the Lodge?" She returned to the subject, but I heard footsteps and then voices so I quickly pushed her behind me, she clearly hadn't hear anything because she began to protest.

"Shut up for a moment, would you?" I whispered, hoping they hadn't seen or heard us.

"What?" She said, not listening to simple instructions.

Two men with drawn swords stepped out of the shadows, blocking our way. "Good day," I said as casually as I could, a hand on my sword, a warning for them to stay away.

"Password!" demanded the first man.

"Surely you were here only yesterday,"

said the second man, coming a little closer to take a look at me, not feeling threatened I stood my ground. "Or your younger brother was. The likeness is remarkable." He looked at me astonished.

"Is this the boy who can appear out of nowhere?" asked the other man. Both of them were now staring at me openmouthed, last time I'd had shaken them off with a lie, I told them them the same one as I had two years ago.

"Let's just say I know ways about this house that are unknown to you," I said, looking down at them, something I hadn't been able to do on my last visit.

"I and my companion have to speak to the Master. On urgent business." "That's right, mention yourself first," Gwyneth said, failing miserably to sound superior, and at remaining quite. We all ignored her.

"The password?" They insisted, "Qua redit nescitis," I said, between my teeth, annoyed at the delay.But followed him on.

And that's chapter 7,8,9,10,11. Next time we'll have 12,13,14.

Bye


	2. Chapter 2

THE MAN IN THE YELLOW coat put his sword away. "Follow me."

He said gruffly. I looked at Gwendolyn from the corner of my eye. She was staring out of the window we passed, eyes full of wonder and an almost childish giddy expression. She didn't lose the expression as we went up the rest of the stairs. I let her go first, so I could keep an eye on her. "You were here only yesterday?" she asked, intrigued. Whispering so that the man a couple of steps ahead couldn't hear. At least she had some sense.

"It was yesterday to them," I said in the same whisper, "To me it's almost two years ago."

"Why were you here?"

She pushed even though this probably was the last place we should be talking about this I answered.

"To introduce myself to the count, and I had to tell him that the first chronograph had been stolen."

I explained, thinking Charlotte would have known that.

"I don't suppose he thought much of that."

Gwendolyn said and the man ahead of them was obviously trying to listening. Not that it mattered that much, he'd been dead for centuries in our time anyway.

"He took it better than I'd expected," I continued, thinking back to the scary encounter. No amount of training or preparation could have prepared me to face the count. I still remembered the utter fear that had gripped me.

"And after the first shock, he was delighted to hear that our second chronograph really was in working order, giving us another chance to end the whole thing successfully"

'delighted' was an exaggeration. I'd blurted out the news of the new chronograph when it looked like he was at about to hit me. The count had nodded understandingly and I had continued blubbering my explanation.

"Where's the chronograph now?" she asked, "I mean at this moment in this time."

Good question. But it had never been my place to ask.

"Somewhere in this building, I assume. The count won't be parted from it for long. He himself has to elapse to avoid random time traveling."

I pushed for her to go a little faster up the steps, hoping that was the end of our conversation but she was far from done. "Can't we simply take the chronograph back with us into the future, then?"

Did this girl really not understand you couldn't mess with time like that?

"For a number of reasons," I explained, as if to a child so I wouldn't have to repeat myself and she'd get it the first time around."The most important are obvious. One of the Guardians' golden rules for the use of the chronograph is that the continuum must never be broken. If we took the chronograph back to the future with us, the count and the time travelers born after him would have to manage without it."

God I didn't know how they'd done it. My teachers had spend years teaching me this stuff. Now I had to teach it to my companion, someone who was supposed to be my equal.

"Yes, but then no one could steal it either." She had after a moment. Did she ever think before she spoke? I shook my head.

"I can see you've never thought much about the nature of time. It would be very dangerous to interrupt certain sequences of events. In the worst case scenario, you might never be born."

Her confused expression didn't disappearing and I sighed, not wanting to have to explain it again.

"I see," she said, saving me from explaining it again all though she clearly didn't get it.

We reached the first floor, passing two more men armed with swords. The man who escorted us here had a brief exchange with them in whispers. The two were looking at Gwendolyn and I strangely, with unconcealed curiosity, and as soon as we'd passed them, they went on whispering. All I heard was,

"Twins…."

"Weird clothing. Completely out of fashion…."

Before we passed on into the next corridor. It was all slightly familiar, looking very similar as in present time and I could still remember it from two years ago. But at the time the last thing I was thinking was about the walls. The thing that had worried me the most was the meeting with the count. The man knocked on an upcoming door and walked in, opening the door for Gwendolyn and I.

Another man was seated at a desk inside the familiar room, also wearing the hideous fashion of the time. The turquoise coat and flowered waistcoat that showed above the desk were dazzling, and below the desktop, there was a cheerful view of bright red trousers and striped stockings. I'd stopped even being surprised by this kind of thing. "Mr. Secretary," said the man to the one seated at the desk, "here's yesterday's visitor again. And he knows today's password, too."

The secretary man looked incredulously at me and I held back my grin. This was just another Tuesday for me.

"How can you know the password? We announced it only two hours ago, and no one's left this house since then. And who is she? Women are not allowed here."

It looked Gwendolyn was about to say something, which would probably end us into more trouble so I took her arm and spoke before she could.

"We have to speak to the count," I said. "On urgent business. We're in a hurry."

I pushed, the walk here took a while and we'd be back in our own time too early if we didn't hurry.

"They came from down below," said the man to the secretary who still held his baffled expression.

"But the count isn't here," said the secretary. Getting to his feet, a task that must have been difficult by the side of his stomach. He wrung his hands together thoughtfully.

"We can send a messenger—"

I interrupted him before he offered us something that would cause us to wait for hours.

"No, we have to speak to the count ourselves. We don't have time to send messengers back and forth. Where is the count at the moment?"

I said, Gwendolyn's eyes wandering around the room beside me.

"Visiting Lord Brompton in his new town house in Wigmore Street. A meeting to discuss something of the greatest importance. He arranged the meeting directly after your visit yesterday."

The secretary said agitated, I swore under my breath. Just great. We'd already have to go back before we even got there.

"We need a coach to take us to Wigmore Street, then. At once."

I declared with authority.

"I can arrange that," said the secretary without hesitation, nodding to the younger man. "See to it yourself, please, Wilbour." "But—won't we be rather short of time?"

Gwendolyn asked before I could stop her. "I mean, time to get to Wigmore Street in a coach."

She covered up the running of her tongue. But she was right. We both knew london and by horse…We had to try it.

"Maybe it would be better if we came back another time?" She suggested, a little alarmed.

"No," I said, smiling at the race that was to come. This was going to be good.

"We still have over two and a half hours," I said cheerfully, ready for the challenge. The challenge against time. Once again. "We'll drive to Wigmore Street." I said, my decision final but Gwendolyn still looked worried.

THE COACH ARRIVED soon and we clambered in, me getting in behind Gwendolyn. I requested for the driver to bring us there as fast as he could and with a sharp flick of his whip we were coach was drawn by four horses, all black and very beautiful. The type you could rarely find in modern day anymore and driven by the same man from earlier and two years ago.

Gwendolyn was staring out of the window the whole ride. I glanced out once to see it was raining, the droplets pattering against the window. I glanced over at Gwendolyn to find her looking at all the kinds of coaches, carriages, and carts that were going along, all crowded close together, spraying mud and water from the puddles all over the place.

We went at the rapid speed I requested, the coach rocked wildly, and every time the horses went around a bend, he could see Gwendolyn's knuckles go white as she gripped on tight. He remembered feeling that too, that feeling as though we were just about to tip over everytime we went around a corner. He hardly noticed it anymore with every bend we took Gwendolyn came closer to falling on top of me, already having bumped into me twice with a sudden jolt of the coach. I'd ignored it as she'd gripped on tighter and mumbled an apology.

As Gwendolyn resumed to look out of the window he saw a familiar expression on her face. One kind of lost, like she could see the familiarity of this London and her London but then again couldn't.

He knew that expression only too well, had seen it a million times before in the reflection of a coaches class. He'd always wished he'd had someone to comfort him ag the time.

"This is Kingsway," I said, trying to help as she tore her gaze away from the window. "You wouldn't recognize it, would you?"

I tried to laugh it off just as our coachman launched into a daring overtaking maneuver to get past an oxcart and a coach like our own. This time she lost her grip and was fung right into me, causing us both to bounce around even more. This time I grabbed onto the seat too.

"This guy must think he's Ben Hur," she said as she slid back into my own corner. "Driving a coach is tremendous fun," I said, attempting to break the awkward silence and wishing I could be up there in the box. Driving full speed through London's old streets.

"It's even better in an open carriage, of course. I'd like to drive a phaeton." I explained just as the rain had stopped but she didn't seem extremely interested.

We finally reached out destination but as soon as we stopped the footman who opened the door for us claimed at first that Lord Brompton was not at home.

"Nonsense. And if you don't take us to his lordship and his lordship's visitors at once you'll find yourself without a job. We're in a hurry too so do it quickly."

I pulled my signet ring off quickly, not needing to waste more time are pressed it into the footman's awaiting hand and reminded him to hurry up.

After a short nod from the footman we were led into the house without another problem

"Do you have your own signet ring?" Gwendolyn asked once we were waiting alone in the entrance hall.

"Yes, of course," I said, wondering why she would even have to ask and why she couldn't bare having a moment's silence. "Are you scared?"

She asked, surprising me with the sudden question.

"No, why? Should I be?"

I asked, almost jokingly and she didn't respond. But I could tell she was terrified. She fiddled with her fingers until she raised her hand to her hair to fiddle with that, patting the pinned up hair cautiously, as if making sure it was still in place. But even with the bumping about of the coach it had stayed in place. Madame Rossini really did work miracles.

"It looks perfect," I said, with a slight smile. Hoping to comfort her. The first time meeting the count I'd been the same.

She seemed taken aback by the compliment.

"Our cook at home is called Brompton, too" she suddenly burst out, looking embarrassed, her cheeks turning red. "Mrs. Brompton."

Not knowing how to respond to the random fact I answered with whatever came to mind.

"It's a small world," I said. The footman who'd just come running down the stairs,his coattails flying saving us from the awkward moment. Now I looked at him I thought his face resembled that quite a lot of a weasel.

"The gentlemen are expecting you, sir."

He said and we followed the man as he led the way up to the first floor.

"Can he really read thoughts?" Gwendolyn whispered. What was going on in that head of her?

"Who, the footman?" I whispered back. "I hope not. I was just thinking he looks like a weasel."

I said truthfully. She smiled at the joke before correcting me.

"Not the footman. The count," she said. So she'd heard the rumour. I wondered who from, I nodded.

"That's what people say, anyway."

That didn't seem to reassure her.

"Did he read your thoughts?"

She asked in a peep. I shrugged.

"If he did, I didn't notice."

With a deep bow, the footman opened a door for us. But just as he did Gwendolyn completely froze.

"Ladies first," I said, giving her a small bugde through the doorway. She took a couple of steps forward and then stopped again. Obviously unsure of what to do. I followed her in, and after another deep bow, the footman closed the door behind us. Three men were looking at us. The first was a stout man who could only just haul himself out of his chair, Lord Brompton he guessed; the second, a younger man with a very muscular build, the only one of the three not to be wearing a wig; and the third was the count, Count Saint-Germain. I bowed in respect, but not as deeply as the footman had. As expected thee three men bowed back. I cursed myself for not having interacted Gwendolyn earlier to do the same as she stood there, straight as a ruler. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon, my young friend," said the count, smiling broadly.

"Lord Brompton, may I introduce my great-great-great grandson's great-great-great-grandson to you? Gideon de Villiers."

Count said proudly to his company.

"Lord Brompton!"

I greeted the overweight man with a bow. "Visually at least, I consider that my line has turned out extremely well," said the count, I smiled in thanks "I obviously had luck in choosing the lady of my heart. The tendency to a large hooked nose has entirely died out."

Again I smiled politely.

"Now, now, my dear Count, there you go trying to impress me with your tall tales again," said Lord Brompton, dropping back into his chair. I almost flinched at the quick movement. No one that big should sit down so abruptly. I'd read about his death and I could safely say that that would be his downfall. Quite literally.

"But I have no objection," he went on, with his little piggy eyes twinkling cheerfully like a child's would.

"Your company is always so very entertaining. A new surprise every few seconds!"

Lord Brompton said with a booming laugh, the count joined in only not as exciting. And turned to the younger, bare-headed man I'd felt like I'd seen before somewhere.

"Lord Brompton is and always will be skeptical, my dear Miro! We must think a little harder to find some way of convincing him of our cause."

The man replied in a harsh, clipped foreign language, I couldn't quite understand but it came close to Latin. Something along the lines of,

"You're stories are most interesting"

The count smiles again before turning to me, introducing his companion **.**

"This, my dear grandson, is my good friend and companion Miro Rakoczy, better known in The Annals of the Guardians as the Black Leopard."

"Delighted to meet you," I said and bows were once again shared. I'd gotten used to all the bowing a while ago but it was still annoying. I hardly ever seemed to travel to times where the shaking of hands was practiced.

Rakoczy— I turned the name over in my head and was positive I knew of him. He was maybe around thirty, now at least, and had dark hair and a thin, long face which was extremely pale. The black Leopard had many stories but not very memorable ones. He was good with poisons and mixtures I remembered, one of the many seeking the elixer. I must have studied it at some point but much is forgotten over seven years and useless facts like these were one of them.

I watched in distastes as a smile curled the count's lips as his eyes slowly moved down over Gwendolyn's figure, almost hungerly or like an animal would its prey. She inspected him too, searching his face with curious eyes and always coming back to those dark eyes. She suddenly blinked as if realising something and her bottom lip quivered as she seemed to be mouthing something. The count didn't seem to be addressing anyone in particular when he said in French.

"And this girl, who must she be? Where's the red head?"

I was about to respond when his face changed of that from curiosity to understanding and he addressed Gwendolyn, still in French. I only prayed she knew french well enough to answer and not stupidly.

"Ah. And so you, pretty girl, are a descendent of the good female traveler Jeanne d'Urfé. I was told you had red hair." Her forehead scrunched up in concentration as she listened to the count speak. Once he's finished a silence fell as she seemed to be still mulling over his words as I feared the worst. She had no idea what the count was saying and in fact, didn't know any french.

"She doesn't know French," I answered for her in French. "And she isn't the girl you were expecting."

"But how can that be?" The count shook his head disappointedly. "All this is extremely unacceptable and unexpected."

I sighed before having to bring him once again, bad news.

"Unfortunately, the wrong girl was prepared for the position as my time traveling companion and the Ruby."

"A mistake?"

The count exclaimed baffled. I could see Gwendolyn trying to make out our conversation as I continued.

"This is Gwyneth Shepherd, a cousin of the Charlotte Montrose I mentioned to you yesterday."

Or what was at least to him yesterday.

"Ah, another granddaughter of Lord Montrose, master of the lodge. And thus a cousin of the traitor, the sapphire?" Count Saint-Germain's dark eyes turned back to Gwendolyn, almost accusingly. But she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"It's the course of the gene that I simply do not understand."

"Our scientists say that it is perfectly possible for a genetic —"

The count raised his hand to interrupt me as I hurried to explain it as quickly as possible.

'I know, I know! That may be so, according to the laws of science, but nonetheless, I do not feel happy about it."

He said with a wave of his hand, Gwendolyn send him an agreeable expression he didn't catch. So she could understand some French? That, or she guessed well.

"No French, then?" he asked, switching to German as he addressed Gwendolyn once again. She seemed relieved at the switch in language and opened her mouth to answer when the count interrupted again.

"Why has she been so poorly prepared?"

He asked me, I didn't miss a beat as I followed up in German,

"She hasn't been prepared at all, sir. She speaks no foreign languages." I said politely, softening the blow as much as possible. "And in every other respect, she is also entirely unprepared and ignorant to all she should now. Charlotte and Gwyneth were born on the same day. But everyone mistakenly assumed that Gwyneth was born a day later."

I said and I knew he wouldn't take it well. By the angry look on his face and his sudden sharp movement as he turned his head to look me in the eye I knew I was right.

"How could such a thing be overlooked?"

The count thundered in English, forgetting his little game to prove Gwendolyn stupid. "Why, I wonder, do I begin to feel that the Guardians of your time no longer take their work entirely seriously?"

I decided it best to leave that to the Guardians to answer.

"I think you'll find the answer in this letter." I said as I took out the sealed envelope out of the inside pocket of my coat and handed it to the count. Who shifted his piercing glance to Gwendolyn. Who in turn once again didn't meet his eyes, looking to the other two men instead. I glanced over quickly as the count broke the seal and unfolded the letter, and with a sigh began to read it. I watched as the Black Leopard's almost black eyes met Gwendolyn and she visible shivered. He indeed was a freaky character.

The count glanced at Gwendolyn as he read, folding it once he's finished reading. Everyone seemed to be leaning forward a little as if trying to read it to. Lord Brompton and Rakoczy seemed to be the most interested in it too, Brompton was craning his fat neck to get a glimpse of the writing, while Rakoczy was concentrating more on the count's face. Along with Gwendolyn who tried to peek over the fold of the letter. I had a vague idea of what it said. Probably explaining the whole Ruby issue and Grace's story. I awaited the count's response as he pocketed the letter. Everyone else seemed to be waiting for it too, leaning back into their previous position, Gwendolyn hadn't moved an inch since her arrival. I watched as the Leopard's eyes bore into Gwendolyn, those black, lifeless eyes I'd read about. She too appeared horrified and entranced by them.

"Your mother, my child, appears to be an unusually obstinate woman." The count finally said. Everyone's gaze rested on the count. "One can only speculate on her motives." He continued, addressing Gwendolyn as he came a couple of paces closer to her, staring her down. But then suddenly she relaxed. Her shoulder's weren't as tense and suddenly it was as if she wasn't afraid of him anymore, that she wasn't intimidated by him. I admired that, it had taken me a while too to realise I could trust this man completely and that he'd been dead for centuries and really was just an old man who couldn't read minds. Although sometimes it felt like he could, like he could see straight into me head or, from his expression, was trying to. "Gwyneth knows nothing about her mother's motives or the events that have left us in this situation," I defended her, just as well she hadn't said anything het. "She has no idea at all."

"Strange, very strange," said the count as he walked all around her, inspecting her like on would an exhibit.

"We really have never met before."

The count said throwing both Gwendolyn and I off. Why would he possibly have already met her? She wasn't going anywhere to meet him earlier in time was she? She seemed confused too as he continued.

"But you would not be here unless you were the Ruby. Ruby red, with G major, the magic of the raven, brings the Circle of Twelve home into safe haven."

When he had finished circling her like there was no one else in the room he stood before her and looked straight into her eyes but hers remained steady, unafraid. I smiled a little at the fact. This girl had a lot more fight in her then he'd first thought. "What is your magic, girl?"

I rolled my eyes discreetly. I'd never believed in the 'magic of the Raven' or other such nonsense. Time Travelers were supposed to travel through time, they didn't have or need any superpowers on top. I'd hoped the count knew that.

"I don't know, sir."

She said hesitantly, some of her fear resurfacing.

What is special about you? Tell me!"

The count came close to bellowing. I suddenly remembered a decision I'd over heard months ago. It had been a Wednesday evening and as usual Charlotte, her mother and grandmother were at the temple. I'd come to greet them, to suprise Charlotte when something interesting had caught my ear.

"You're a very special child Charlotte and now a very special time traveller. With some sources suggesting you have some sort of gift."

He's heard Charlotte's mother say so I'd stood just around the corner, just out of sight.

"Do you have any idea what that may be?"

She'd asked Charlotte cautiously.

"How many times mother. No. It's all nonsense anyway."

Charlotte had snapped back annoyed and Glenda hadn't pushed.

"I'm not like Gwendolyn with her whole seeing ghosts and everything nonsense."

Charlotte had said almost bitterly.

"And thank God for that. The child must be crazy."

Charlotte's grandmother, whom she called Lady Arista said. I'd have to remember to ask her why they called her that someday.

"Poor child." Glenda said without any sympathy. "She'd do anything for some attention."

They were approaching and I'd made the snap second decision to head back inside quickly. I'd walked my way back through the tunnels, my feet guiding the way as my thoughts swam.

Gwendolyn, Charlotte's cousin I think, claimed she could see ghosts. Weird.

I had thought at the time but afterwards hadn't thought about it again. The thought had popped up only a second ago.

"I don't think there's anything special about me, sir."

Gwendolyn said weakly a rhe count clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"You may be right. After all, it's only a verse. A verse of doubtful origin."

My thoughts exactly. He suddenly seemed to lose interest in her and turned back to me.

"My dear boy, I read here, with admiration, what you have already done. You have tracked Lancelot de Villiers down in Flanders! William de Villiers, Cecilia Woodville—the enchanting Aquamarine—and the twins I never met: you've ticked them all off the list. And just think, Lord Brompton, this young man even visited Madame Jeanne d'Urfé, née Pontcarré, in Paris and persuaded her to donate a little of her blood."

I hadn't known that information would be in the letter but wasn't complaining. Displeasing the count, even though in my time he was long dead could be dangerous. I trusted the man but wasn't blind to how dangerous he was either. Glancing at Gwendolyn she was visibly disgusted at the mention of all that blood.

"You mean the Madame d'Urfé to whom my father owed his friendship with Madame de Pompadour and ultimately with you as well?" asked Lord Brompton sitting straighter in his chair.

"The very same," said the count. "I don't know any other."

"But Madame d'Urfé has been dead these last ten years."

The fat man sputtered confused.

"Seven, to be precise," said the count. "I was at the court of Margrave Charles of Ansbach at the time. I feel greatly drawn to the German states. The interest shown there in Freemasonry and alchemy is very gratifying. And as I was told many years ago, I shall die in Germany."

Funny, I thought. How in our day time travelling was all strictly secret while here the count used it for his own amusement. "You're just changing the subject," said Lord Brompton. "How can this young man have visited Madame d'Urfé in Paris? Why, seven years ago he must still have been a child himself."

The count laughed and continued feeding his cat yarn. This was all this was, a man playing with others.

"You persist in thinking along the wrong lines, my dear sir! Ask Gideon when he had the pleasure of asking for a drop of Madame d'Urfé's blood."

Lord Brompton looked inquiringly at me and I decided to humour him.

"May 1759," I said but his lordship uttered a shrill burst of laughter, not believing it. Being friends with the count must be difficult.

"But that's impossible. You can hardly be twenty years old now."

The count laughed too, but with satisfaction.

"So you met her in 1759. She never told me, old mystery-monger that she was." "You were in Paris yourself at the time, sir, but I had strict instructions not to cross your path."

I explained with a smile of my own, my hands kept by my side.

"On account of the continuum, yes, I know" The count sighed. "Sometimes I am inclined to quarrel with my own rules.… But back to dear Jeanne. Did you have to use force? She wasn't very cooperative with me"

"So she told me," I said. "As well as the way you talked her into handing over the chronograph."

I said with respect, remembering the struggle getting a tiny bit of that damned blood had been.

"Talked her into it! She didn't even know what a marvel she'd inherited from her grandmother. The poor device was lying around unused, unrecognized, in a dusty chest in an attic. Sooner or later, it would have been entirely forgotten. I rescued it and restored it to its former glory. And thanks to the figures of genius who will enter my Lodge in the future, it is still in working order today. That is little short of a miracle."

The count had his fun, now I'd have mine. "Madame d'Urfé also thought you were prepared to strangle her, just because she couldn't remember her great-grandmother's maiden name and date of birth."

Gwendolyn gawked at the new information. I remembered very clearly how she'd shouted and accused when I'd asked for her blood, telling what the count had told her. I'd calmed her down but didn't know any of this was true. Well not until now."Quite so. Such gaps in our knowledge have cost me far too much time poring over old church records, when I could have put my mind to more important matters. Jeanne is a distinctly vindictive woman. Which makes it all the more remarkable that you persuaded her to cooperate." I smiled. "It wasn't easy. But I obviously struck her as trustworthy. I also danced the gavotte with her, and I listened patiently to her complaints of you."

It had taken me of guard when she'd asked for a dance but I'd taken it without hesitation.

"How unjust. When it was I who nudged her in the direction of an exciting love affair with Casanova—and even if he was only after her money, a lot of other women envied her. What's more, I shared my chronograph with her in a truly fraternal spirit. If it hadn't been for me…"

The count boosted before turned to Gwendolyn again, obviously brightening up. "An ungrateful female. I think she never really understood what was happening to her, poor old soul. Moreover, she felt insulted because her gemstone in the Circle of Twelve was only the citrine. Why can you be Emerald and I'm only dull Citrine? No one who takes any pride in herself wears citrines these days!"

He chuckled but Gwendolyn showed no emotion, just listened blankly.

"She really was a very foolish creature. I wonder how often she traveled back in time in her old age. Maybe she stopped doing it entirely. She was never a greatly skilled time traveler anyway. Sometimes a whole month would pass before she disappeared. I'd say the female blood is considerably more sluggish than ours. Just as the female mind is inferior to the masculine intellect. Would you not agree with me, girl?"

To Gwendolyn's credit she simply bit her lip, glaring for a split second before lowering her head to the sexist comment.

"Not particularly talkative, is she?" he remarked.

"She's only shy," I said reassuringly with a small smile. "Timid."

If only I thought, I'd have many less stupid questions to answer were it the case.

"There are no shy women," announced the count. "The modest way they cast their eyes down merely hides their naivety."

He really was from the 17th century wasn't he?

"You clearly do not hold a high opinion of the fair sex," said Lord Brompton with no amusement nor any hint of disapproval. "Oh, I protest!" replied the count. "I adore women! Really. I just do not believe their intellect is capable of furthering the interests of mankind. That is why there is no place for women in my Lodge."

He favored his lordship with a beaming smile even though he was more than aware that in present date that wasn't true.

"And for many men, I assure you, Lord Brompton, that is the crucial argument that causes them to seek membership themselves."

"Yet the ladies love you! My father never tired of praising your success with the fair sex to the skies. We are told that women have always thrown themselves at your feet, here in London and also in Paris."

The count fell silent at once, no doubt thinking of his days as a ladies' man. Then he said, "Oh, it is not particularly difficult to beguile women and subdue them to your will, my dear sir. They're all the same. If my mind were not on higher things, I would long ago have written a manual for gentlemen, advising them on the right way to handle women."

The count had told me much about his book and now, somewhere in the guardian's posetion were some of the notes for it. They were old fashioned and patronizing towards the sex but I hadn't disagreed with him on it. Simply nodding and smiling, but never entertaining the idea any further. He was sexist for certain but sometimes I couldn't help but agree on some of what he said. Charlotte was great but definitly too dramatic and always played the little innoccent card.

I glanced over at Gwendolyn and to my suprise saw her lips pulled into a line to keep herself from smiling. But the smile quickly faded once she realised Rakovsy was eyeing her oddly and she cast her eyes down at the mosaic floor.

"This is all most entertaining," said Lord Brompton. His double chins were quivering with delight. "You and your companions would have made good play actors, I'll be bound. As my father said, my dear Saint-Germain, you could always come up with surprising stories. But I fear you can't prove any of them. You haven't yet performed a single trick for me." "Performed a trick!" cried the count. "Oh, my dear sir, what a doubting Thomas you are. I would long ago have lost patience with you had I not been aware of my obligations to your father, God rest his soul. Or had my interest in your money and your influence not been so great."

Lord Brompton laughed a little uncomfortably glancing between me and the count.

"Well, you are honest, to be sure." He said a little upset.

"Alchemy can't manage without its patrons." The count swung around to Rakoczy.

"We must show his lordship a few of our tricks. He's one of those who believe only the evidence of their own eyes. But first I must have a private word with my great-grandson here and write a letter to the future Grand Master of our Lodge."

"You're welcome to make use of the study next door," said his lordship, pointing to a door behind him. "And I look forward with great excitement to a performance."

"Come along, my boy." The count took my arm. I wasn't sure what to do, were it Charlotte I would have left without a second thought but this was Gwendolyn I was leaving behind. Clumsy, talkative, questioning Gwendolyn.

"There are some questions that I must ask you. And some things that you should know." "We have only half an hour left," I said, looking for any excuse so I could keep an eye on her, it was her first time here after all. And facing it alone, like I'd done would not be fun especially with the Leopard staring at her like that. I checked the pocket watch fastened to my waistcoat with a gold chain.

"By then, at the latest, we must set off back to the Temple."

"Half an hour will be quite sufficient," said the count. "I write fast, and I can talk at the same time."

I laughed briefly and a little nerveusly, she'd be fine. She wasn't a child, she could take care of herself I thought before following the count to the study when I heard the cleared of a throat. Halfway to the door, I turned around to find it was Gwendolyn. She gave me a pointed look and I looked back at her and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. She gave me a pleading look to not leave her alone, looking so young when she did it that I hesitated. "She would only be in the way," said the count coming back into the room.

"Wait for me here," I said in what I hoped was a gentle, reassuring tone of voice. "His lordship and Miro will keep her company," said the count. "Gentlemen, you could ask her a few questions about the future. This is a unique opportunity. She comes from the twenty-first century—ask her about the automatic trains that race along underground in London. Or the silver flying machines that rise miles up in the air with a sound like the roar of a thousand lions and can cross the sea." Lord Brompton laughed so much that I felt seriously worried about his chair. All his rolls of fat were quivering. "Anything else?"

She gave me a pleading glance and I just smiled. "I'll be right back," I said, and with that entered the study the count had just gone in and closed the wooden door behind me gently, feeling Gwendolyn's eyes on me.

 **Sup people.**

 **Hey, sorry long time no chap but I have a favour to ask. I write this story by copy and pasting directly from the book and changing perspectives but keeping dialogue but my kindle, iPad and phone won't allow me to copy any more so if any of you have an ebook or kindle, phone, iPad, etc, that you could send me parts of the book from please DM or PM me. Without your help I will have to discontinue my story. AND don't send me any chunks of the book until after contacting me please. Thank you very much.**

 **And of course you can always send me any suggestions or requests you'd like for this story or others and I will read them and keep them in mind.**

 **Charlotte**


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